


Never Been Subtle

by totallyrandom



Series: Stiles is Trans, Dude [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Coming Out, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek Uses His Words, Derek and the Pack Know Stiles Is Trans, FTM Stiles Stilinski, Jumping to Conclusions, LGBTQ, M/M, Miscommunication, Scott McCall is a bad listener, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrandom/pseuds/totallyrandom
Summary: Stiles has something important to tell Scott, but Scott’s not making it easy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is from [an anon prompt](http://totally0random.tumblr.com/post/152812350677/how-did-stiles-come-out-to-scott-as-bi).

Clumsy and loud, Stiles and Scott bang through the school doors.

“This is the first Friday I haven’t had a test all semester,” Scott grins.

“Huh. Me too. Sweet! And no practice until Monday!”

“Right!”

“Shit, why are we even here today? Wanna ditch, Scotty? We still haven’t found out whether they really mean _unlimited_ pancakes.”

Scott’s stomach growls, and Stiles laughs.

“C’mon, my treat. I, uh, kinda wanted to talk to you about something anyway? So glad I turned in my final research paper yesterday. Home free!”

“Shit. I knew I forgot something.”

“No, Scotty! Pancaaaaaaaaaaaaaakes!” 

“Sorry, dude. I can’t turn the paper in then just leave.”

“You’re the worst, dude.” Stiles gives him a weak punch to the shoulder. “See you at lunch, buddy.”

Stiles is hyperfocused in his morning classes so he doesn’t worry about talking to Scott over lunch. When the bell rings, he grabs a soda from the machine and texts Scott to meet him at the Jeep so they can talk. It’s 5 Scottless minutes before his phone rings.

“Can’t.” 

“What?” 

“Coach is making me and Isaac runs laps. We just finished scarfing down our food.” 

“Why laps?” 

“Has Coach ever needed a reason?” 

“Harsh. Better you than me, though, dude!”

“Duuuuuude. … Later!” 

Stiles eats in the Jeep anyway, drum solo-ing on the dash as he thinks. After school, he slides up next to Scott’s locker. “Give you a ride to work?”

“Thanks, bro.” 

Stiles fiddles with the radio as they wait in line to get out of the parking lot, Scott going on and on about … something about Coach, but Stiles can’t really concentrate. He snaps off the radio in a huff.

“You ok, dude?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Just ready for the weekend to start. Or college,” he sighs, easing on the gas to lurch forward a few feet. 

“Stop!” 

“What?!” Stiles stomps on the brakes, which is ridiculous because they weren’t even going over 5 mph. “Dude, my heart!”

“Sorry! I forgot Lydia’s notes in my locker. Back before you hit the end of the line.”

Stiles bounces his forehead against the steering wheel a few times, letting out a long groan. Not his best decision, he realizes as he rubs at the red mark it left. Scott’s right, though; he hops back in the Jeep just as Stiles is pulling away from the school.

 “Told ya!”

 “Yep. You sure did. Uh, speaking of telling people things …” Stiles trails off, drumming his thumb on the stick shift.

 Scott looks over at him seriously.

“This would’ve been so much better over pancakes and bacon, dude.”

“Man, the last time you needed breakfast foods to tell me something …” 

Stiles laughs weakly. Why is this harder than telling Scott he’s trans? 

“Yeah. That was … Yeah. So, ok, the thing is … you know some people are like, you know, gay? Like Danny. Like super, super gay.” 

“Dude, he’s so popular at Jungle, right?” 

“Yeah. How could us common folks ever compete, right?” 

“Free drinks aren’t much fun when I can’t get drunk, anyway,” Scott pouts. 

“Yeah, poor you, with the hot guys wanting to buy you drinks all the time. What a burden.” 

“Everybody’s so nice.” 

“The queens like me, at least,” Stiles sighs. 

“They’ve totally adopted you, dude. You’re like their gay nightclub baby. Except you’re not gay because you like girls.” 

“About that …” 

“Dude, this isn’t about your 5 Year Lydia Plan, is it? I thought you were past that.” 

“I am. I mean, I’ll always love Lydia. But we’re not like that. And that’s better.”

Scott shoots him a dubious look. 

“No, really. You see how weird it is with Malia now. That can’t happen with Lydia. I mean, not that I ever had a real shot anyway. … Oh my god, Scott, stop distracting me! I totally had a point I was trying to make!”

But he’s already lost Scott’s attention to his phone. “Dr. Deaton’s doing emergency surgery in like 10 minutes. Can you get me there?” 

“You doubt me, dude?” Stiles says in mock pain as he speeds down side roads he knows aren’t on any of the patrol routes. “Look at that; 2 minutes to spare. So, I’ll pick you up after?” 

“Yeah, we can ride to the pack meeting together.” 

“Oh, _that_ you remember,” Stiles grumbles. “What is it tonight, training or ‘fun’?” 

“Movie night, I think?” 

“So, fun-ish. Unless Derek’s picking the movie.” 

Scott smiles cheerily and bounces away. Stiles barely holds back the urge to brain himself on the steering wheel again. He decides to behave and drop off a salad at the station for his dad. 

When he swings back by the clinic, Stiles feels calm. He’s gonna do this. It was ridiculous for him to be nervous, anyway, he reminds himself as he hands Scott a greasy bag of burgers and fries to inhale on the trip across town. Scott shoves half a burger in his mouth and starts describing the entire gruesome surgery in detail. Stiles spits out his fries and dumps the rest of his food in Scott’s lap. Stiles can just eat later. Or tomorrow. Maybe next week. 

They’re already pulling up to the loft as Scott finishes his story along with the last burger. He turns to Stiles with a frown. “Hey, didn’t you want to tell me something before? It sounded kinda serious.”

“Yeah. It’s not anything … I mean, it’s not _bad_ …” Stiles forces the words out as he tumbles from the Jeep. “It’s just … I just wanted to tell you. Because it’s so backwards. It’s ridiculous, really, with all the things you already know. But then you don’t know this somehow? And, I mean, you know part of it already anyway. And, seriously, I don’t know how I haven’t told you. I mean, it’s _stupid_ that I haven’t told you. What’s up with that?”

Scott stops walking and turns to him. “Dude, breathe. Whatever it is, it’s ok. I mean, like, your dad’s ok, right?”

“What? Yeah. Yeah.” 

“Well, ok. So just tell me. Unless you want to wait until after the meeting?”

Stiles wrenches the door to the building open. “No, Scott, I do not want to wait until after the meeting! I’ve been trying to say this since you cockblocked me from a mountain of pancakes. I’ve been trying to tell you this for like … that’s like 13 hours already!”

“Duuuuuuuuude.” 

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbles, bumping shoulders with him as an apology as they walk up the steps together. “It’s just, you know …”

“Ok?” 

“Right, so.”

Scott’s phone buzzes. “Shit. Wait. Just like 30 secs, dude. Kira’s asking where I am. I forgot to tell her to meet me here. Hold on.” Scott types out a text and waits to hear back. “Ok, she’s on her way,” he says, slipping the phone back in his pocket as he slides the loft door open.

“Oh my god, Scott, would you focus for 2 minutes so I can fucking tell you I'm bi?!”

Scott turns to him slowly, eyes searching his face like he’s waiting for more.

Stiles blows out a breath, shoulders slumping. “That’s it, dude. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you all day. I’m bi.” 

“Seriously, Stiles,” Scott says, deadpan. 

“Yeah?” Stiles gapes at Scott’s lack of reaction. 

“You’re bi. That’s what you’d wanted to tell me. All day. The ‘big thing’ you thought you needed the power of pancakes and bacon to tell me.” 

“Yeah!” 

“Dude.”

“What?! That’s all you have to say to me???”

“Yeah, man. I mean, I've known that for … I don't know, _forever?_ ” 

Stiles startles as he hears people across the room laughing. Right, because he’s at the pack meeting already. With everyone here. A room full of people with freaky hearing to learn his big secrets. Not that they needed special abilities for this, because he just came screaming out of the closet. Actually screaming.

“You knew … _forever???_ ” 

“Totally, dude.” Stiles notices everyone’s nodding at him. Some quietly, some like fucking bobbleheads. Isaac actually fell off the couch laughing. 

“Thanks, guys. Really appreciate the support.”

“Dude, you’ve never been subtle about it,” Scott says. “Like, everyone knows. Everyone. … But, I mean, like, everyone-everyone. ... _Eeeeeeeeveryone_.”

“Ok, ok, I get it! Stop saying that! I doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore!” 

“Shit, sorry. I mean, it’s cool. We’re all cool with it, obviously. Always have been. But thanks for telling me?” 

Stiles groans, thunking his head back on the brick wall behind him. He just closes his eyes and hopes to disappear. It’s the sound of water spilling that snaps him out of it. 

Everyone else has moved on to chatting to each other. Except Derek. Derek is just staring at Stiles, the last drops of water dripping out of the glass dangling limply in his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek blinks rapidly and gets up, almost running to the kitchen. Stiles expects him to come back with a towel for the spill, but he can see Derek is just standing in the kitchen, gripping the counter.

Stiles frowns at him for a minute before his heart starts racing. He lunges for Scott’s arm, whisper yelling, “Is … is he not gonna be ok with it? Shit, is he gonna kick me out of the pack?!”

Scott looks at Derek and then back at Stiles a few times then at the rest of the pack and then back at Stiles.

“That bad, huh,” Stiles groans, dropping his head into his hands.

Scott hugs an arm across his shoulders and squeezes. “Nah. It’s all ok, dude. This is just … Just talk to him. It’s fine. We're … gonna go. now. Yeah, um, we _all_ have to go pick up dinner! ... You should talk.”

“What?! I just fed you. You're not leaving me here!”

“It's fine Stiles. Promise.”

Stiles makes a strangled sound, barely feeling someone bumping shoulders with him on the way out and whispering in his ear that it's gonna be ok. He’s too busy freaking the fuck out to even notice who it was.

“Soooooooo … ok,” Scott says, clapping his hands together.

Stiles vaguely registers that everyone looks like bobbleheads again.

“Right. We're gonna pick up pizza and just … yeah, movies at my house later.”

Stiles croaks out, “When?”

“Dude, whenever you're done here. No hurry. Seriously. Just … talk,” Scott says seriously before sliding the door shut behind them.

Stiles takes a few breaths before creeping into the kitchen, where Derek is still gripping the counter and staring out the window, unfocused.

“Derek.” Nothing. Stiles reaches a hand out but stops himself. Derek reaches back to grip it.

“Uh … Derek?”

Derek turns and looks at him, eyes wide.

“It's …” Stiles says, letting his eyes slip shut so it’s easier to talk. “It's ok, Derek. The pack will be ok,” he croaks out. “We can just not be … I mean, we can totally work around this. Lydia and Peter avoid each other fine. It'll be … fine.” He makes himself look at Derek as he promises, “The pack will be fine.”

Derek opens and closes his mouth a few times, sighs, and just shakes his head.

Stiles starts yelling at him, staring him right in the eyes now. “No, you know what? _Fuck you_ , Derek. No one else has a problem with me. So you can fucking _deal with it_. It's not like I'm gonna start making out with Isaac in front of your innocent eyes.”

Derek growls and his grip tightens.

“Um, ow, asshole!”

“Isaac?” Derek growls. “Really?”

“What? No! I have no idea what Isaac's deal is. And I wouldn't just out someone, even if I did.”

“But you want …”

“What?”

Derek exhales slowly. “You're interested in _Isaac_. I … don't think that's a good idea.”

“No kidding,” Stiles tries to laugh. “The scarfs alone are a deal breaker. Sooooooo not interested.”

Derek squints at him intently.

“What? Am I not allowed to joke about this?” Stiles scoffs. “Grow the fuck up, dude. Join this century. It's not painful; I promise. It's not like every gay dude in the world hits on you or anything. … Well, ok, probably _most_ of them do because … ” He waves his free hand at Derek. “But I promise I won’t, ok?” He tugs hard on the hand Derek is still gripping. “Dude. Fucking let go. You know I practically can't talk when I'm tied up.”

Derek makes a strangled noise and lets go of Stiles’s hand violently.

“Oh my _god_. I'm going to Scott's. When you get done clutching your pearls, you know where to find us.” On his way to the door, he mumbles, “Really. In this fucking day and age. Who knew anyone under 60 was _literally_ homophobic anymore. It's not like it's fucking _contagious_.” He grabs the door handle and throws over his shoulder, “You're not going to ‘turn gay’ just because someone in your pack is bi. Hell, Danny's almost pack and you're nice to him. You gave him a fucking strip tease once!”

“No.”

Stiles turns around with a laugh. “Dude, you so did. And it was _awesome_ , by the way. Angriest striptease ever, oh my god. But still _very effective_ in securing his help. For obvious reasons,” he snorts and takes a step toward him. His voice drops, hurt plain. “Seriously, though, how the fuck are you ok with Danny but not _me_?”

“I am.”

“Obviously not, dude.”

“It’s fine,” Derek growls.

“All discernible data indicates otherwise.”

Derek starts stalking toward Stiles, who scrambles backward into the door.

“Um …” Stiles starts, but Derek doesn't pause. “Dude, I'll go! I’m going! You don't have to fucking push me out. Heh, I'm _out_ already anyway now,” he says with a defiant smirk.

Derek gives him a grin that’s more worrying than pleasant as he crowds Stiles against the door.

“Whoa. Uncool, dude.”

Derek leans in and sniffs at Stiles’s neck.

Stiles chuckles weakly, though his pulse has calmed now that they’re back on familiar ground. “I thought we were kind of past the throat-ripping thing.”

Derek sighs against his neck. “This place has seen enough blood.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna sniff me to death?”

Derek runs his nose from the crook of Stiles’s neck up to his hairline. “Is this for me?”

“Is what for you?” Stiles squawks.

Derek runs a hand up Stiles’s arm to settle over the pulse on the other side of his neck.

“Uh, you're getting reeeeeeeeeally handsy here for someone who's not ok with dude-on-dude action.”

Derek whispers against his skin, “You never listen. You just keep talking. You don't give anyone a chance.”

“A chance to what?” Stiles squeaks out.

Derek leans back, still close enough to kiss though. And--holy shit--he’s staring at Stiles’s lips.

“Your mouth never stops talking. Should give it a chance to do other things.”

“What?! Ok. Just, like, can you back? the fuck? up???” He pushes against Derek’s chest with both hands, but it’s useless. “This is, like ... my brain knows this isn't … uh … but my body’s gonna start to get ideas that you'd definitely not be comfortable with. And I'm not gonna let you intimidate or _sexually frustrate me_ into leaving the pack, Derek. Stop being a fucking asshole about this.”

“What kind of ideas?”

“Huh?”

“How do you know they'd be wrong?”

“Oh, fuck you, Derek.”

Derek just raises his eyebrows at that and gives him a Cheshire grin.

“I get it, ok? Just because I'm out now doesn't mean I'll bother you with my feelings. Ok? Just …”

“Feelings?”

“Like I said, not gonna bother you with them. So just get the fuck off me,” he says, shrugging out of Derek’s hold. “Gotta say, I honestly thought you'd be cooler about this.”

Derek backs off. “It's fine, Stiles. I was just … surprised. I needed a couple minutes to think. Not everyone's brain works at your speed.”

“What's there to think about? It literally has nothing to do with you.”

Derek’s eyebrows show his disbelief, again.

“Fine. It has something to do with you. But I’m not asking you for anything. So just … stand upwind so my feelings don't get all over you, ok.” Stiles groans pitifully. “Seriously, dude, can't you just ignore it? You must spend all day ignoring people's lusty odors.”

Derek frowns at him.

“Ok, maybe it's more annoying when it's a friend … or an acquaintance you can’t avoid, or whatever I … People have unrequited feelings all the time, you know! If Danny can deal with it, so can you. They'll go away soon. Probably.”

Derek’s eyebrows manage to climb even higher.

“Eventually!”

“You have feelings for Danny too?”

“What? _No_. I mean, yeah, everyone pack or pack-adjacent is un-fucking-fairly hot. But I don't have feelings for them.”

“But you do for me.”

“Not for long at this rate,” Stiles grumbles.

“Stiles. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I was afraid of how you'd react. _With good fucking reason_ , it turns out!”

Derek leans back in and runs his nose up Stiles’s neck again.

Stiles pushes at his face. “Dude, just consider my humiliation complete now, ok? You don't need to do this anymore.”

“I really do,” he whispers against Stiles’s cheek.

“Oh, really. You wanna play chicken, Derek?” Stiles’s smile is wicked. This he can handle. He much prefers feeling angry over sad. He threads his hands through Derek's hair and tugs him forward the last inch so their lips are barely touching. “I've never backed down from a fight, Derek. You should know that by now.”

“Counting on it.” Derek closes the gap and Stiles snaps. If he has a chance to kiss this fucker, he's going all out. It's not like the consequences could get any worse at this point, right?

Stiles makes the kiss absolutely filthy, pulling at Derek's hair and rolling his body into him, gasping when he realizes he's not the only one who's hard. He knows it doesn't mean anything, doesn’t change anything, but he feels vindicated anyway.

Derek pulls back with a gasp and Stiles gives him a smug smile. “I guess that was a tie.”

“Not a competition.”

“Kinda is. … Don’t worry, Derek.” He fake whispers, “I won't tell them you kissed a boy and you liked it.”

Derek’s face pinches in, confused.

Stiles drops his hands. “I won't make it weird, ok. I promise. Now, if you've finished proving what the fuck ever the point of that was supposed to be, I need to run home and take care of ... this,” he says, grabbing himself. “See you at Scott's.”

“Let me,” Derek whispers, leaning in.

“What?”

“Let me take care of this,” Derek says, sliding a knee up between Stiles’s legs. He breathes the words into the dip behind Stiles’s ear: “Let me take care of you.”

Stiles growls in his face, “Look, asshole, I don't know what kind of game you think this is. But I'm not. fucking. interested. in playing.”

Derek looks at where Stiles is leaning into Derek’s leg, not away.

“My dick’s not the boss of me.”

Derek pulls away. “What kind of feelings?”

“ … Huh?” Stiles slides down the door, sprawling on the floor.

Derek squats down to look him in the eyes. “What kind of feelings. For me.”

“Right now? I’d say anger, embarrassment ... and just a little heartbreak. But the anger is really fucking wiping the rest out, I gotta tell ya. So thanks, I guess? Pretty sure these pesky feelings won't be a problem by the next time I see you.”

“No.”

Stiles sighs in exasperation. “What?”

“Don't.”

“Don't _what_? Can you just be clear for fucking once?”

Derek grunts out, “Go to dinner with me.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You don't have to take me to dinner to apologize. I already ate. ... Sort of. And you don't even have to apologize at all, since you're like physically incapable. Just … stop being an asshole and we'll call it good, ok?”

Derek frowns at him.

“I don't know how you think dinner would make things _less_ awkward.”

“Going on a date with the guy you're in love with won’t make it less awkward?”

“I'm not in love with you! … Much. Definitely less and less every minute! I'll get over you by the time I get home, I'm sure.”

“ _Don't_.”

The phone buzzes in Stiles’s pocket. He leans away from Derek and digs out the phone. Scott says: _If ur busy fucking we can watch movie or smth tmrw_

He types back: _haha. opposite of fucking. soooooooo not fucking. ever_

Derek's phone buzzes next: _FIX THIS. NOW_

Derek taps out, slowly: _I'm trying but he's Stiles_

Stiles’s phone buzzes again: _shut up. Let Derek talk. Important_

Stiles scowls, first at the phone then at Derek. “Fine. Talk.”

Derek pulls him up and pushes him at the couch. He sits close and gingerly takes both of Stiles’s hands in his.

“Stiles.”

Stiles clamps his mouth shut and barely lets himself breathe.

“Can we just,” he sighs, “forget all this. Everything since you walked in.”

Stiles huffs, “ _This_? You can't even say it?”

Derek growls. “Can we forget everything that's happened _since you came out to the pack_?”

“I can't pretend to be straight for your comfort, Derek.”

“That's not what …” He scrubs at his beard. “Start over. Pretend you're telling me for the first time.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and jerks back his hands, putting on a saccharine voice. “Hey, Derek! Glad to see you, buddy. You know, I just wanted to let you know I'm bi. Awesome, right?”

Derek grabs him in a hug and Stiles goes rigid. Derek mumbles in his ear, “Thank you for telling me.”

Stiles bursts into tears, sobbing for a minute into Derek's shoulder before sitting back and laughing hysterically for a moment. “Sorry. Wow. That was … I don’t even know what … ”

Derek gets up to find him a box of tissues. “Why are you telling me now? Are you dating someone?”

Stiles lets out a mean chuckle. “ _No_. This just widens the pool of people who won't be interested in dating me.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty used to it at this point, so whatever.”

“Can I take you to dinner?”

“You should know that sounds like you're asking me out.”

Derek just raises an eyebrow but stays silent.

“Yeah, I mean, I  _know_. But it _sounds_ like it, dude.”

“I am.”

“What?”

“Stiles. Will you go to dinner with me sometime. As my date. I'm _not_ homophobic. I just needed a minute to catch up.”

Stiles thinks he must be lying, but it’s some good alpha-ing to pretend. So he needs to encourage that, at least. “Good effort. B-plus.”

“Stop. … You went from someone who definitely would not be interested in ever dating me to … a possibility, maybe. I had to figure out what that means. If it changes anything. And it does. Maybe everything.”

“Is this a pity date?”

“Depends. Do you pity me?”

“I …”

“Please. Let's start over. Stiles, I would really like to take you to dinner. If you’re interested.”

“Holy shit … hooooooooooooly shit.” He texts Scott: _holy shit_

Scott sends him back a smiley.

“Stiles?”

“Huh? Oh. Sorry.”

“Well … ?”

“Well what?”

“It was a yes-or-no question, Stiles.”

“Oh? Oh! Yes! Ooooooobviously yes!” He flings himself into Derek's lap and gives him an even filthier kiss than before.

They pull apart, breathing ragged. Derek laughs. “Dinner first?”

“Mmmmmmmm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first words of this story, “clumsy and loud,” are from a great song by one of my favorite bands ever: “I Love You Softly” by [Barnaby Bright](http://barnabybright.com). It just seems so Stiles to me:
> 
>  
> 
> _All of my love, clumsy and loud_  
>  _Swallows you up, watches you drown_  
>  _And I know that you're hoping I'd sing all my songs just a bit more sweetly_  
>  _And I know you'd prefer that I give you my heart a bit more discreetly_  
>  _And I wish I knew how people calmly announce over casual coffee_  
>  _But no one ever taught me how to say “I love you” softly_

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [@illbeyourgentlemanstory](http://illbeyourgentlemanstory.tumblr.com/)/[RyanJames](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RyanJames) for feedback on this story and encouragement for the trans Stiles stories in general.


End file.
